


Ask and You Shall Receive

by musicalenchantment



Category: Leap of Faith - Menken/Slater/Cercone
Genre: A little bit of everything really, Daddy Kink, Dom!Jonas, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Hair Pulling, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Restraints, Sassy Reader, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalenchantment/pseuds/musicalenchantment
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now,” he said, breaking your thought process and bringing you back to the present as he gripped your chin lightly. “I want to hear you ask nicely for what you want, and perhaps I’ll give it to you.”</p><p>Jonas comes to town with his revival, and you become the target of his affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask and You Shall Receive

**Author's Note:**

> Who would have thought that it would be Jonas Nightengale that pulled me out of my fic writing dry-spell? 
> 
> First time writing Jonas, as well as porn, so helpful criticism is welcome. Fluffy or sexually frustrated responses are good too. 
> 
> I got a lot of inspiration from the wonderful and kinky people on the Raul Esparza/Frederick Chilton/Jonas Nightengale tags on tumblr... hopefully this lives up to your headcanons, you dirty birdies. :)
> 
> This turned out to be REALLY long, so if breaking it into chapters would help anyone, I'm happy to do so.
> 
> Enjoy. ;)

The first moment you saw Reverend Jonas Nightengale, you hated him. The second moment, you wanted to jump his bones.

You weren’t going to kid yourself, he was hot as hell, with a voice that sounded like heaven itself, but damn, he was smarmy. And you knew exactly what his motives were when it came to your little town. Why you decided to give in to your older brother’s requests to come with him to the tent set up for the revival was beyond you.

You didn’t believe in this stuff, hadn’t bought it since you were a child. And whatever this Jonas guy was preaching made it sound even sketchier. You were glad your brother found the comfort he needed in God, but you didn’t think he needed to be paying a traveling preacher an arm and a leg to make sure the Lord heard his prayers about your family’s failing farm.

You sat in one of the hard metal chairs that made up the audience and glanced around, taking in the majority of your fellow community members looking up at the energetic Reverend in awe. You were watching him equally rapt, but the thoughts going through your head weren’t holy by any means. You were sure you were radiating more heat than normal as you watched him stalk like a panther. Luckily it didn’t seem like anyone else took notice.  

You glanced at your watch as he moved around the room, talking to people and pretending to give them advice from “God”. You needed to be leaving for your shift at the bar soon, but you couldn’t find the right moment to get up and leave (partly since you were sitting in the front row, but also because you were enjoying watching him move to the music). Just as you decided you were going to bail after the next song was over, you saw Jonas look over at your brother and start to saunter over.

You swear you saw a gleam in his eyes that told you he knew everything about your family, its problems, and what to say to get the maximum amount of money out of your brother. You felt your face start to burn as he looked over at you as well, but with a different kind of heat coloring his gaze. The low lurch of arousal, coupled with a small sting of panic, started burning through your body. You had to get out. Now.

Gripping your brother’s shoulder, you quickly pulled his ear close so he could hear you. “I have to leave for work. _Don’t_ do anything stupid,” you warned as you watched Jonas draw closer. The air felt hot and sticky. You needed to get out before _you_ did something stupid was more like it. Standing and turning on your heel, you walked out of the tent briskly, leaving the smirking Jonas Nightengale watching your retreating form.

-&-

When you got to the bar for your shift it was empty save for your co-worker Serena, who was more than glad to be getting off for the night. You didn't expect much since you knew most people were probably at the tent for the evening, and you were actually kind of relieved. You needed some time to cool yourself down after watching Jonas strut around for the better part of an hour. You scoffed as you thought about him doing his song and dance, trying to cheat people out of their money.

Still, that didn't stop your dirty mind from wandering to him now and again with thoughts that were obscene and sacrilegious, whether he was a real reverend or not.

It was an hour out from closing time, and you'd only had a couple locals stop by since you'd been working, mostly to ask how the revival had been. When there wasn’t anyone in, you’d found yourself generally tidying up and watching the TV propped up on the wall as you went through your shift. When you couldn’t stand being alone anymore, you decided to shut down for the night.

You were wandering around closing up shop when someone walked through the door.

"We're closed," you directed at them, not bothering to turn around as you finished moving freshly cleaned glasses from the sink over to a towel.

"Is that so?"

You froze at the sound of his voice and slowly looked over your shoulder at the Reverend as he sat down across the bar from you, seemingly ever-present smirk on his face. You watched as his eyes openly sized you up and you managed to regain your composure and stand up a little straighter. No way you were going to let this jerk frazzle you.

"Yes, _Reverend_ ," you said, looking at your watch then back at him pointedly, "we are. Your little production sapped any business for the night, so I'm closing early."

"In that case," he said, pulling a crisply folded bill out of his pocket. "I'll take a whiskey." He held the bill out between two fingers as you stared at him. You tried to ignore the fact that he probably just received it this evening.

"You’ve got to be kidding if you think I’m serving you," you said tightly, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Who did this guy think he was?

"Tsk, you're going to refuse a paying customer?" He asked sweetly, quirking an eyebrow. "That's bad for business, sweetheart. After all, I did steal your town for the night. It's only fair."

You hesitated a moment before giving in and snatching the bill from him, turning your back on his deceptively green eyes. Your boss had security cameras up, and if he knew you had deliberately kicked someone out on a shitty night, he'd rip you a new one. No, it was best to just serve him and let him be on his way. Twenty minutes couldn't hurt.

As you reached up to grab a glass off the shelf on the wall, you snuck a peek at him in the mirror hanging behind the bar. He was getting a good look at your ass, and knew you were watching him do so. Not that you minded particularly (actually, you were a little flattered), but seriously, a little tact would have gone a long way.

"Better make that two. Get yourself something," he said as you came down off your toes, glass in hand. "You look like you need it."

You fumed silently and reached up for another glass. Though you knew you probably shouldn't, you couldn't help it. Your night had already been upset by this infuriatingly arrogant but charmingly sexy con-man as it was. Might as well go all out.

You poured Jonas a good amount of whiskey and set it in front of him before pouring some for yourself. You rang up his total and laid his change out before taking a seat on the stool at the end of the bar at an angle to him.

"Cheers." You raised your glass towards him and took a drink, relishing in the warmth that spread through your chest from the alcohol. “What brings you into the sinner’s den, Reverend?” You were laying on the sass thick, and his eyes crinkled with his smile.

"I saw you in the tent tonight," he said, taking a drink. "I couldn't help but notice you didn't seem too impressed by the word of God."

"Very astute," you said after a moment. "I wasn't."

"You don't believe what the Lord has to say to your neighbors?" You could hear the sarcasm dripping out around the edges of the statement as he said it.

"Not when it comes out of your mouth, I don't."

Jonas laughed at this, taking another drink. You found yourself watching his hands as he cradled the glass in his palms, his long, slender fingers wrapping around it. Shifting your eyes up to his, you found them on you already and you looked away quickly, taking a quick sip to try to cover yourself. You don’t think he bought it.

"Look, you're right for hating what I do," he said, bringing his hand down to the wood of the bar. He started rubbing patterns into the slight stickiness, and you felt your eyes being drawn to it. Something about the motion made your stomach flip. "Between you and me, I _am_ taking advantage of your town."

You shifted your glass in your hands, watching the liquid swirl. At least he was admitting he was swindling everyone in the name of God.

"But I know you don’t hate _me_ ," he started, and you looked up again to meet that same hot gaze he gave you earlier. "At least, not judging by the glances I saw you giving me in the tent."

You paused a beat. The only sound in the room was the late night movie playing on the TV and the hum from the coolers.

“You don’t have me fooled with this icy act, you know,” he continued, staying out of your space with his body, but inching forward in his tone. The way he was looking at you was making you feel overly warm. “You looked pretty swayed by something else earlier tonight. Namely, me.”

You took another drink. “Well, you got one thing right, Reverend.”

“Please, call me Jonas.”

“Jonas,” you amended. “I’m not going to deny that you’re one of the more attractive visitors we’ve had around lately. But don’t think for a second,” you punctuated your statement with a glare, “that I like you.” You stood abruptly. “Excuse me.”

You hated that you had to get away from him in order to think straight. And you certainly didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how much the moves he was putting down were working. Making your way down the bar to the hallway leading to the bathrooms, you leaned up against the wall as soon as you were out of sight. You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Damn it. Why couldn’t you just find him unappealing and kick him out? You thought back to the hungry look you saw in his eyes as he looked at your brother with the knowledge that he could take him for all he had.

He didn’t know these people like you did. He didn’t know what they went through every day, trying to make ends meet in a shitty economy with a decreasing percentage of small farmers. He didn’t see the huge corporations taking over, one family at a time. He didn’t see the banks drying up day after day. He didn’t know how much a miracle happening would mean to these people. This was your home. He couldn’t come in and mess about without consequence.

You made your way back to the bar after a couple deep breaths, and made sure to keep the counter between you two this time. Jonas was sitting and tracing his finger around the rim of his glass, eyes traveling around the room lazily, taking in everything.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me," you apologized quickly as a formality when you came back.

“I didn’t mean to offend you," he offered.

"Look," you breathed with a sigh, "you don’t know anything about us, Jonas.” Your body weight shifted so you were leaning your weight on your elbows on the counter. “You don’t know how much it hurts to see everyone you love being taken advantage of because all they want is a little hope that something’s going to go right for once.”

He started to reach a hand towards you, and you matched it by pulling yourself back.

“Don’t. I don’t--” you broke off and looked down at the cracked tiles beneath your feet. “I don’t trust myself with you,” you said with a whisper as you set your gaze on him again. “If I act on what _I_ want, I’ll be a hypocrite, so I’d appreciate it if you just… didn’t right now.”

He nodded, hands up in defense, before pulling a pen out of his jacket pocket. This time he reached slowly, taking the hand you held out hesitantly when he gestured for it, and wrote something in your palm before moving away. You found yourself missing the warmth of his hand on yours after he pulled back.

“There’s where I am if you want to take care of yourself for once,” he said, giving you a knowing look. “Believe me, I’m not one to judge.”

“Are you trying to save me, Reverend?” You asked sarcastically, trying to put your guard back up.

“I’m trying to do whatever you want me to do.” Jonas shrugged before he got up with a smile towards you. You stood there and watched the door open and then close as he left. The second he was gone, you collapsed against the bar, leaning heavily against it as you looked at the scrawly blue script on your left hand.

“Jesus, take the wheel,” you muttered to yourself.

-&-

The next night found you standing in front of Jonas’ motel room door. The green paint was chipped around the edges and there were moths fluttering around the light that hung on the wall a few feet down the walkway. You could hear the far off sound of cars on the highway, and for a second you considered turning around and leaving, but found you couldn’t. Not when his words had been echoing in your head all day long.

_“...if you want to take care of yourself for once.”_

He hadn’t exactly been wrong when he’d read that about you. The past few years had seen you spending more and more time taking care of your ailing family farm, trying to keep control as you dealt with lawyers and company representatives offering you bids for the land. Trying to keep control as your brother dealt with the increasing monetary loss with more and more Jack Daniels.

Your life had become focused on everyone but yourself and while you said you were happy doing what you could to help, it was beginning to wear you down.

You were _sick_ of being in control.

Truthfully, you hadn’t slept much after you got home from the bar and, when you _had_ finally gotten to sleep, it wasn’t very restful. You had woken up that morning and studied the writing Jonas left on your hand. It was starting to fade away already and you decided, just in case, to write it down before it was gone forever.

In hindsight, it didn’t take much for you to decide. You'd thought about the fire in his gaze and what it did to you as he stared you down; thought about his hands and how desperately you wanted to feel them roam along your body. Ultimately, you knew that he could give you exactly what you needed, quietly and with no strings, and that was what led you to to the little motel off Highway 16.

You could hear him moving across the room when you knocked on the door. He opened it hesitantly at first, but as soon as he saw it was you the door opened with a bit more flourish.

"What can I do for you this evening?" He asked, and damn it, that smirk was back, but barely gracing his face. Almost like he was trying to hide the victory of having you show up at his room from his demeanor.

"Could I come in?" You asked, standing up straight to challenge his aura of smugness. "I have a need for confession," you added with a smirk of your own.

His eyebrows raised slightly, and he stepped away from the door to let you slip by. You strode across the threshold and farther into the room as he shut the door. He moved thoughtfully towards you, stalking across the carpet lightly.

You studied him as he moved: dark suit pants and a purple dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up, exposing and flattering his forearms. He still had his boots on, and you saw his jacket was folded over a chair at the table by the window. He must have gotten back from the tent fairly recently.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, stepping forward to stand in your personal space. Your gaze shifted upward and he grasped your hands in his, warm and strangely calming. You weren’t sure if this comforting, serious version of him was a semblance of the ‘real Jonas’, but you appreciated that he didn't just dive in. His voice was even and a little fragile; he understood why you were here. "It's all about you. Whatever you need... tell me."

"I--," you hesitated, looking away to the side. His thumb was rubbing along your knuckles lightly, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Every fibre of your being felt like it was slowly being ignited just having him this close to you. There was no way you could force yourself to walk back through the door if you tried.

Your eyes moved back with an intensity like lightning as you made up your mind.

"Help me let go, Jonas."

It felt like slow motion, but his lips were on yours in an instant. Your body leaned into his as he closed the space and wrapped his arm around your waist, your arms flung themselves up over his shoulders. You kissed him like you were starving and he matched you, his fingers tracing their way up your jaw and into your hair, tangling and tugging lightly. Your mouth parted over his, and he sucked on your bottom lip for a second before pulling away.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You didn’t know if you had been more sure of anything before.

His attitude shifted, and you felt yourself stepping into a role he’d laid out for you. One that fit perfectly. The smug look on his face made you want to fall to your knees, but you decided to wait for an order before you did that. You didn’t want to seem too over zealous.

Jonas took a step back from you and raked his eyes down, taking you in. A smile crept to his face as he took a breath.

“Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what has moved you to confession at this time of night.” He said in his preacher voice as he held his arm out, directing you to the end of the bed.

You quirked your eyebrow and gave him a look as you moved to sit. He wanted to play savior to the irreverent sinner, then? Fine by you. You sat, bringing your hands to your lap and clasping them together, entwining your fingers in false worry as you fell into character.

“Forgive me Reverend, I don’t know what has come over me,” you responded, looking up through your lashes at him standing in front of you. “Lately I’ve been having… impure thoughts.”

He knelt at this, cupping your face in his palm in what was probably meant to be a comforting move, but to your overworked nerves it felt strangely erotic.

“And what has been the cause of these impure thoughts?” He asked, sliding his hand down your neck slowly, tracing along your pulse point and your jaw as he moved lower. Definitely not comforting anymore.

“A handsome stranger,” you breathed, your eyes closing as his fingers quested lower, stretching along your collarbone and pushing aside the fabric of your shirt. His other hand squeezed lightly just above your knee as it moved incrementally upwards. “He just arrived in town, and I've been imagining his hands on me ever since.”

“Have you imagined other things with this man?” His voice grew heavier with the question and your mind didn’t hesitate to provide you with all the dirty things you had imagined doing with him.

“Yes, Reverend,” you said as you drew in a breath. “I’ve imagined his mouth on me, his tongue sliding across my skin, his teeth grazing me where I’m most sensitive.” Your eyes opened at this and met his as you looked down at him on his knees. You couldn't help but admire how he looked in that particular position. “I know he’d be good at it. He has a very _wicked_ tongue.”

You could almost see the groan Jonas suppressed, and you winked at him. He switched gears at that and stood suddenly, leaning over you as he gripped your hair and forced your head back to look up at him.

“Do you want him to take control of you?” He asked slowly, eyes flicking to watch as you bit your lip without realizing it. “Show you the darkest parts of your soul as he takes you apart _piece by piece_ until you’re begging him to put you back together again?”

“God, yes,” you nearly moaned. You had to hand it to him; the man certainly had a way with words.

“Then you’ll have to ask for it.” He was shifting away from you, straightening and towering over you as your eyes closed for a moment to process. He clicked his fingers, prompting you to look up at him. “Eyes up here.” You held his eyes and watched as he tilted his head slightly and smirked down at you, “such a good girl. So eager to please.”

You beamed inwardly at the praise. If anyone else had called you a good girl you would have felt silly, but when Jonas did it your heart soared with the want to please him more so he would say those two syllables again. And again. Not to mention the heat that rushed downward at the thought of you being ‘such a good girl’ for him.

“Now,” he said, breaking your thought process and bringing you back to the present as he gripped your chin lightly. “I want to hear you ask nicely for what you want, and perhaps I’ll give it to you.”

“Please,” you whispered. “I’d like to feel your mouth on me, Sir--” You broke off and raised your eyebrows, questioning if that was a correct way to address him. He nodded.

“Sir is fine. Go on.”

“I’d like to come on your beautiful fingers. Please," you asked again, reaching up tentatively to trace along the hand on your chin. You felt your face heat as you said the words and he smiled down at you again.

He stroked along your face, brushing your hair back as he spoke. "Such lovely manners," he purred almost under his breath. "Lie back for me, sweetheart."

He stepped back to let you scoot farther up the bed, and he crawled on after you, the predatory look on this face matching the sensual movements of his body. He looked like he was waiting to devour you, and more heat rushed through your stomach at the thought.

As soon as he reached your legs, he drew them up around his hips, grinding himself into you slightly as his hands traced along your thighs. He lifted your feet one at a time to remove your shoes and press a quick kiss to your arches, his eyes studying you. Then he made quick work of your jeans, popping the button deftly. You watched his hands more carefully than you had before, entranced by them and becoming more and more impatient to have them on you.

He lifted your hips up off the bed suddenly, forcefully, dragging you across his clothed cock, and pulled your jeans down your hips, exposing the black, lacy panties you had worn specifically for this encounter. They were part of a set that you seldom wore together, but you figured that tonight was as good a time as any to break them out. You were glad you did, because the lust you saw burning in Jonas' eyes was enough to tell you that even if he was a preacher, he was still a very, very naughty boy.

"Are these for me?" He asked seductively, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to catch your nod and your shaky exhale before moving back downward.

His fingers traced along the lace at your hips, moving inward to tease you lightly with a thumb. You let out a moan and tried to press harder against his hand as he felt your arousal through the fabric. He slipped the material to the side for a brief moment and ran a finger down through your folds, sliding through your slickness, letting out a deep growl in his throat.

He leaned down to give you a searing kiss, biting at your lip in the process before pulling away. You watched as he locked eyes with you and gripped the sides of your flimsy panties and dragged them slowly down and off of your legs.

"Finders, keepers," he said, quirking a brow and sliding them into his pocket. You let your head fall back onto the pillow for a moment before deciding to take things into your own hands; he was moving much too slowly for your taste.

Jonas watched you arch against the bed as you removed your shirt and exposed your matching lace bra, not once keeping his hands to himself. With each stroke along your skin, you longed for more and more contact, pointing out sassily that it didn't seem fair that he was still clothed.

You propped yourself up on your elbows and took your turn watching as he stepped off the bed and took care of his shoes and socks before slowly unbuttoning his shirt, smirking as he gave you a show. He revealed a tight, black cotton shirt underneath. As appealing as the sight was, it didn't last long; he peeled the shirt off over his head, ruffling his already sexily tousled hair in the process.

You stared openly, taking in his broad expanse of chest and the sprinkling of dark chest hair. Your eyes landed on the gold cross around his neck for a moment and you resisted the urge to comment. You were supposed to be on your best behavior after all, even if your patience was starting to wane.

He moved down to his trousers then, pulling the belt out of the loops and holding it up. He gave you a look, raising an eyebrow; his way of asking if you would like him to use it. You smiled demurely and sat up on your knees, holding your arms out to him bravely, wrists together. Jonas groaned under his breath as he wrapped the belt around them, and his gaze grew hungrier as he looked down at his handiwork. His mouth met yours again briefly before pulling away with a muttered, "I should have known you'd like a little restraint."

"Good to know at least one of us shows some," you replied purposefully, prodding at him to get him to do something, anything to you.

"Tsk," he scolded as he pushed you back lightly into the pillows and your arms fell above your head. "You were doing so well."

Your eyes tried to follow him as he moved over you again, this time stopping at your thighs. He kissed and licked over them, sucking on your hipbones and running his teeth over the delicate skin there before pulling away with a wet pop.

"Trying to take control isn't the way to get what you want," he muttered darkly, reaching up to get a handful of your breast and kneading it. He traced over your nipple lightly through your bra and you wanted to arch into it, but he pulled his hand away, settling it on your stomach before you could. "I'm going to have to teach you a lesson, I'm afraid."

At this, he settled between your thighs, spreading and stroking along them towards your center before adding a strict, "Tell me when you're close."

You nodded and immediately felt a breath on your clit before his tongue swiped up through you in one broad stroke. You let out a heavy moan as he moved immediately to your pleasure points and got to work, trying to bring you up as fast as he could. He was licking along your folds in a steady rhythm for a few minutes before you felt his index finger at your entrance. He slipped inside delicately, moving along slowly to get you acclimated before adding another finger and picking up the pace, fucking you roughly with his hands and tongue.

After the excruciatingly slow teasing from earlier, you were glad for the switch. Feeling him move inside of you and use his mouth to get you off had been on your mind since you saw him, and you weren't regretting a single moment.

The only problem with the situation was how fast he was working you up. It wasn't long before you were writhing, pushing your hips up for more, more, more. His eyes snaked up to watch you, and you considered for a brief moment in your chase for release to ignore his order and come, but you relented and moaned out a quick, "I'm close."

Jonas' actions immediately ceased, and you whimpered when he withdrew his fingers. He sat up and stroked along your body, leaning his mouth down to lick and kiss up your stomach to your breasts. He pulled the material of the cups down and grasped your flesh in both palms, spreading his fingers wide along your ribcage and around them as he squeezed. He moved over your peaks with his thumbs as you groaned to the room before his mouth closed around one nipple at a time and began to suck. His tongue running over the bud combined with those impossible green eyes watching you made you shiver.

He moved back down to his place between your legs when he was sure you had calmed down and resumed his actions from earlier, drawing breathy moans and groans from you. He worked you up to the edge again and again, each time trusting you to stop him before you came. With each denied orgasm you became more desperate, and as he brought you to the edge for the fourth time, you began to plead with him.

"Please, Reverend, let me come," you begged, using one of his titles hoping he'd be more lenient. You were sensing your release heading steadily towards you, and this time you really, _really_ wanted it. He leaned up, his fingers still stroking strongly against your g-spot, and smiled.

"You're going to be a good girl?" He asked and you nodded frantically, wrists pulling against his belt.

"I swear," you rushed out with a moan. You were _right there_ , just a few more good strokes to your clit would do it. "Please, Sir, I'm so close... I promise to be good."

"I don't know..." His eyes rolled to the ceiling as though he was thinking about it, but his pace never slowed. You whimpered pathetically.

"Daddy, I need it, _please_." You said without thinking, realizing what you said only when he groaned and leaned down to kiss your neck. You held your breath as you waited for his response, filing away his reaction. That could come in handy later on.

"Come," Jonas growled as he moved his thumb to your clit. You felt your muscles start to clench at his order and your eyes flew shut. You pressed your head back as you came, your orgasm rushing over you _finally_ , and moaned his name to the heavens. He continued to move as you came down, and only when you started to shudder with over stimulation did he slow and pull away, reaching up to undo the leather around your wrists.

You felt him free your wrists and drop the belt to the floor with a clank. He brought them back in front of you and you stretched your shoulders down, feeling the tension release. Jonas moved to his side next to you, and rubbed your wrists one at a time to help encourage blood flow back into them. He stroked them firmly but gently, landing a peck on your pulse points when he was done.

"Thank you," you whispered, turning to look at him, and he smiled as he leaned in to kiss your lips for a few moments, the two of you melting into each other as you moved.

"Don't thank me just yet. There's more where that came from," he said cheekily, reaching around you and grabbing a handful of your ass, pulling you closer to him. He ground his cock against your hip, and you felt the slow burn of arousal coming back and settling in your belly. You suddenly wanted to see what he had hiding under those impeccable suits of his and, as per his rules, decided to ask for it.

"Jonas--"

"Ah," he cut you off with a look. "There's your mouth getting you into trouble again."

" _Sir_ ," you corrected with a tone you're sure he didn't care for, but he didn't stop you this time. "I think you're still a bit overdressed."

He smirked at your implication and sat up, offering you a hand. You took it and he pulled you up off the bed, unfastening your bra as you stood before him. You slid it down your arms and flung it across the room, where it landed on his jacket. You let out a giggle.

"You're making a mess of my room," he teased as he looked around at your clothes strewn about. His mouth was suddenly by your ear and his voice had shifted down into one filled with heat, "I should make you crawl on your hands and knees and pick your things up." You couldn't help but shiver at the image.

"I'm sure there could be a better use of my time on my knees," you said with a grin. "Don't you think, Sir?"

Jonas pulled you against him roughly, his hand coming down on your bare ass with a smack. You let out a yelp of surprise.

"Get on your knees then, my beautiful sinner," he said suddenly with a smug smile and a finger under your chin, lifting your face to him as you sank to the floor. You sat on your knees, the carpet scraping against your skin, and looked up at him through your lashes.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" He unbuttoned his pants and let them slide to the floor, revealing his length straining against his underwear. You reached up tentatively, your fingers sliding lightly along his cock through the black fabric. He let out a soft moan and stroked through your hair, tangling his fingers in it and pulling. You locked eyes at the same time and stayed there a moment before he whispered, "Go on."

You hooked your fingers into his waistband and pulled it slowly downwards, exposing him to the warm air of the room. As soon as you saw him, you breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief and arousal. You had been nervous that he was going to be too much to handle, but you were pleased to see that  while Jonas wasn't overly large, he still had more than enough to work with.

You slid the material to the floor and he stepped out of it, pushing it to the side as you leaned in and took him in hand, feeling the weight of his cock and stroking up the length to add a twist at the head. He exhaled heavily and shot a look down at you. His eyes were nearly black from his arousal and part of you wanted to tease him, wanted to make him wait for it and beg for it. The other part of you couldn't wait to bring him over the edge with just your mouth and watch his carefully structured persona fall apart in front of you.

You settled for the second one.

The need to see Jonas as a real person was overwhelming, especially now that you had him naked in front of you. You leaned forward to lick a stripe down his length and suck the head into the warm heat of your mouth, not wasting any time. You inched him further and further into your mouth, your tongue working along the bottom firmly in a rhythm that you were finding was working for him. It was always hard before you figured out the technique that drove that particular person crazy, but once you did, they didn't stand a chance.

And your goal was to make sure Jonas didn't stand a chance in hell.

You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and stroked in time with your mouth moving firmly over him. Occasionally you would pull away and spit, following it with several short strokes while you regained some composure before going back down on him. Other moments you would pull away and trace the veins along his cock with the tip of your tongue. You earned a sharp intake of breath from him every time you did this and you would look up at him and lick your lips obscenely, if only to add to the scene playing out in front of him.

After a while, he began to groan and his fingers started to tighten in your hair, itching to take over and thrust into your mouth. You looked up and waited until he met your gaze, nodding when you locked eyes again. You stopped, your mouth still firmly wrapped around him and your hands on his hips, sucking lightly towards his tip. He gave an experimental thrust into your mouth while he held your hair.

"Okay?" He asked lightly and you nodded, closing your eyes at his lovely heated groan, matching it with a moan of your own.

Jonas began to thrust into you as he held you in place, and you were surprised at how much you enjoyed the feeling of being used like this. He began to bump the back of your throat and your eyes started to water, but you found that while it was uncomfortable for the moment, you didn't particularly dislike it. You tried to increase the suction on him, and when you did, he growled and moved away, pulling you up from the ground and pushing you backwards to the wall next to the bed.

You leaned against it heavily, gulping in air as he dug in his pants pocket for a condom. As soon as he found it, he tore the packet open with his teeth and rolled it on in a flash, flattening you to the wall and lifting you against it. You wrapped your legs around his waist as his fingers went to your entrance to check that you were still sufficiently wet. You wanted to tell him there was no way you wouldn't be, but before you could, his fingers were gone and being replaced with his cock.

He pressed against you and you slid down onto his length, letting out a sharp gasp and a long moan as he filled you fully. Your arms tightened around his shoulders as he began to move, pressing you further into the wall. You tried to match his thrusts as best as you could, but ended up just trying to hold on and not wiggle out of his grip too much.

"You feel so good," he purred at you and you let out a harsh moan as he hit a spot just right. " _Fuck_ , yes."

Your fingers tangled into the back of his hair at that and you pulled his head back, lengthening his neck. You leaned forward and kissed along his jaw and the stubble on his skin, wanting so badly to leave marks on him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you away from the wall, walking to the bed and tossing you down.

You gasped in a rasping breath as he pulled away from you and flipped you, landing you on your stomach. He pulled you to your hands and knees and re-entered you, earning another gasp, and resumed the pace he had set before. Your fingers tangled in the cheap motel sheets, holding on tight as his hips snapped to meet yours.

You felt his right hand on your shoulder, gripping for leverage, and the chill of his ring caused you to shiver slightly. He reached his hand up and wrapped your hair around it, pulling and exposing your neck, before leaning down over your back to kiss below your ear.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he growled as you moaned from the sensation. “Let go.”

“P-please,” you pleaded with him, as you felt yourself cresting higher and higher. What he was giving was fantastic, but you needed that extra push over the edge. “I need--”

“Touch yourself for me,” he whispered in response. Leaning back up, he slowed his thrusts just enough so you could move a hand down to your clit.

You gasped at the combined sensations as you went straight to work giving yourself the type of attention you craved. Jonas groaned as your fingers brushed across his cock while he moved in you.

“That’s right, show me how you sin, you dirty girl.”

Your breaths and moans started to come harsher and quicker and when you began to writhe, needing to feel every inch of him, Jonas trailed his hands down your back to your hips, holding almost too tightly, bound to leave bruises.

“Ask for it,” he warned you, and you closed your eyes as your head fell forward with a protesting whimper. A hand left your hip at that and drew back, landing a sharp blow on your ass, jolting your head up and sending more heat through you.

“You know I won’t tolerate sass about the rules,” he said with authority, landing a matching smack on your other cheek. “If you can’t handle that, I’ll stop. Clear?”

You thought back to your earlier punishment and decided against a repeat.

“Yes, Reverend.”

“Good girl,” he purred at you.

“Jesus,” you breathed after a few moments, and you knew he was smiling at you. That fucker had been hitting every single one of your kinks all night, and you didn't know how he was doing it. Well, two could play that game.

“Please,” you bit your lip and asked again, this time shooting a look over your shoulder at him as you moaned, “can I come, Daddy?”

Jonas let out a long, hard groan like he had the air knocked out of him and began thrusting harder, almost pushing you across the bed. You let your chest fall onto the sheets, pushing your hips up farther as he pounded into you. God, you were so close, you just needed him to tell you when--

“Come for me,” he ground out, and you responded soon after with a drawn out, “Oh, God, Jonas,” as your muscles contracted around him once more. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm, and just as it started to toe the border of too much, you felt him stutter in his rhythm and cry out. Stilling with his hips flush against yours, he fell forward and wrapped an arm around your waist, holding on tight as he rode the aftershocks of his own release.

He stayed like that for a few moments, his cheek resting lightly on your shoulder blades and the both of you catching your breath, before he pulled out gingerly and rolled onto his back. You let your knees slide out from under you and felt the stiffness in your hips and thighs release as you relaxed into the bed.

You turned your head to watch him next to you, and admired how utterly debauched he looked. His face was flushed, and sweat had beaded along his hairline to match the sheen he had over the rest of his body. Sensing you were watching him, he turned his head to meet your gaze before giving you a smile and pulling you close.

“Huh. Turns out confession _is_ good for the soul,” you said cheekily.

His laugh was like music to your ears.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me at [musicalenchantment.tumblr.com](http://musicalenchantment.tumblr.com). We can talk about Raul Esparza and cry our feelings.
> 
> There's also a playlist that I put together (that I ended up listening to while this work happened) that goes along with this sexy devil. You can listen to it at [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/anmijen/take-me-to-church) if you like.
> 
> Here's another playlist, this time inspired by this very fic! Here's the tracklist and a link to listen! [[x]](http://christinemichelle91.tumblr.com/post/85963043644/christinemichelle91-ask-and-you-shall-receive)


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